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Authors: Matt Myklusch

BOOK: The Lost Prince
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Even before he sat down, Dean could tell this meal would be unlike any he had ever had before. Dinner had yet to be served, and the table was already overflowing with food. There was a long platter filled with the purple apples Ronan was so fond of, as well as several other types of fruit Dean had never seen before. There was an endless supply of bread, cheese, and butter. Far more than the three of them could hope to finish, especially if they meant to eat a full plate of food afterward.

At a nearby table, Dean spotted a large glass cylinder filled with clean, chilled water. He could tell its temperature was cool by the little droplets that beaded up on the outside of the glass. He wondered what well it had been drawn from that it had come so clear, and how the palace staff had managed to keep it so cold. Everything looked wonderful, but he couldn’t take for granted that it was all safe to eat. As Dean told his story, he watched his hosts, careful not to take from any tray that Waverly or her father had not eaten from first. He saw danger on every plate and inside every glass. He wondered if he had made a grave mistake in coming. Servants poured wine for the regent, and tea flavored with cuts of fruit for Dean and Waverly. He accidentally dropped his goblet on purpose as he took it, just in case the cup itself was laced with poison. “I’m sorry, how clumsy of me.” He rose and helped himself to an empty chalice from the table with the water tank. One couldn’t be too careful at a dinner like this.

“Where was I?” Dean asked, getting back to his story.

“Riding the snapdragon,” Waverly said. “Father, you should have been there. It was amazing.”

“I can imagine.”

“I still can’t believe you did that,” said Waverly. “I never would have dared such a thing.”

“You do yourself a disservice, talking like that.” Dean said, thinking about the way she cut over the waves on her surfboard. “Never? I find that hard to believe.”

Waverly smiled back at Dean. “It’s true. I can’t imagine doing anything like that.”

“Of course not,” Dean replied.

He liked sharing a secret with Waverly. In a day that was already filled with excitement, this unspoken agreement between the two of them excited him most of all.

The moment did not go unnoticed. Dean and Waverly seemed more amused with each other than their words warranted, and the regent picked up on it. He cleared his throat. “You still haven’t said how you managed to tame the snapdragon. Please, do tell us.”

Dean shrugged. “There’s not much to tell, I’m afraid. It all happened so fast. I saw an opportunity and took it before it went away, that’s all. In moments like that, you just act. You do what you have to survive, no more. That’s how I grew up. It’s all I’ve ever known.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to hear more about how you grew
up,” said the regent.

“Yes, what did you do before you came here?” Waverly asked. “Where are you from?”

“Nowhere worth mentioning. That’s the truth.” It was the truth too.
Or at least as much as I can safely tell.
Dean wanted to tell Waverly everything about himself, but he couldn’t tell her who he really was. Why he was here. He could, however, tell her what made him who he was. That way, when this was all over and he was long gone, she might at least understand why things had to be this way. “I grew up on the waves more than anywhere else. I learned to sail by stowing away on ships, and did whatever I could to earn a meal each day and a quiet corner to fall asleep in each night. Unfortunately, no matter what direction the winds took me, I never got very far. Somehow, I always ended up right back where I started. It’s like I was anchored in place. There was always something holding me back.”

“I know how you feel,” Waverly said.

Dean looked up. “Really?”

“Waverly Kray.” The regent set down his chalice with a thud. “That kind of talk is not appropriate.”

“Oh, Father, I’m just making conversation,” she said, waving him off. “And I’m sorry, but it happens to be true. You might as well know it now,” she told Dean. “Here in the palace, your life is not your own either. Mine has been planned out and put on hold since the day I was born. I’ve been waiting, you see. For you.”

“That is an honor and a privilege,” said the regent.

“And my duty as well, but that hasn’t made the waiting any easier. But now that he’s finally here, my life can go on as planned.” Waverly took a long sip of her tea. “Just as I’ve always dreamed it would.” The queen-to-be eyeballed her father in a way that made Dean uncomfortable. She didn’t look very happy.

“I think I know how you feel,” Dean said. “All my days, I’ve lived by someone else’s rules. Waiting for my life to begin, wondering if it ever would. It hasn’t been easy for me either, but now that I’m here … I feel like I might finally get the chance to be captain of my own ship. To be free. I’ve never felt free a day in my life, but I will soon.”

Waverly’s lips formed a sad smile. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

Dean wasn’t thirsty, but he took a drink anyway so he wouldn’t have to reply. He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t say what he really meant—that he’d be free from One-Eyed Jack once he delivered the gold of Zenhala. He couldn’t share his past with Waverly, even if he felt they both wanted the same things for their future.

“I think what our guest is trying to say is that he’ll be free from the life he knew,” said the regent. “Free from hunger and fear. Here in the palace we have soft beds, clean clothes, full bellies.… This is a blessed life.”

“It is for some,” Waverly said. “You know what they say,” she
told Dean. “All that glitters isn’t gold.”

“That will do, Waverly.” The regent stared at his daughter, lecturing her with his eyes before he turned to address Dean. “This island isn’t perfect. I don’t mean to say that it is. We have had our share of hardships, just like any other place in the world, but we see them through. I daresay we’ve withstood worse than you can well imagine. In the old country, before our people came to this island, they were constantly under siege for their golden trees. Those were dark times, but our ancestors found this lost, magical island and ushered in an age of prosperity. With the exception of one terrible day thirteen years ago, the people of Zenhala have been always safe here. With the right man leading the way, we always will be.”

“I don’t understand,” Dean said. “The old country? Are the Zenhalan people not native to this island?”

“No. It was discovered ages ago by Captain Verrick’s great ancestor. He set out to find this place when it became clear we could no longer defend our ancient lands. He was chasing legends, searching for a long-forgotten island we might call home. Back then, the island had no name. Only a bearing in the Bermuda Triangle. The sea serpents that prowl these waters, the yearlong storm … those things turned others away, but they attracted him. He knew this place was the perfect haven for us to grow our gold in secret, if he could only find it. With his mastery of the sea and a bit of good fortune on his side, he made land and planted our
flag. We’ve been here ever since.”

“He must have been a great sailor to weather the yearlong storm.”

The regent shook his head. “No ship weathers the great storm. Not when it reaches full strength. He came at the right time. That part was luck, both good and bad. It was easy enough to get his ship in, but he had to wait a whole year to get himself out. Moving our kingdom to this island was a long process. It took us many years to understand the weather patterns of the Triangle.”

A sailor at heart, Dean was fascinated by the secrets of the Bermuda Triangle. “How is it that no one else has figured out which month the storm breaks? I’m surprised people don’t realize the traders go out at the same time, year after year.”

“But they don’t go out at the same time, year after year. There is no one safe month on the calendar when the great storm breaks. Tides turn. The weather shifts. Our ancestors”—the regent motioned to himself and Waverly—“the Krays of old, studied the stars to predict it.” The regent pointed out over the terrace to a watchtower on a bluff overlooking the ocean. Its roof was a golden dome with a giant spyglass sticking out of it, aimed at the sky. “We employ their methods to this day, charting the heavens, mapping the weather, and planting our harvest accordingly.”

“Mapping the weather?” Dean got up from the table, went to the terrace, and looked at the watchtower. “Does it work?”

“Of course it works. Our island relies on the gold trade for everything. The Watchers have just finished charting next year’s storm.”

“Incredible. I should very much like to see that.”

“You will,” Lord Kray replied. “And if you think that’s something, wait until you see the orchard.”

Dean closed his eyes.
Finally!
He was starting to think they were never going to mention that.

“The golden orchard, yes of course,” he said, casual as he could manage. Dean put a hand to his brow and scanned the countryside. “Where is it planted?”

“You can’t see it from the terrace,” Waverly said.

“Is it far away? Perhaps we could take a tour after dinner if there’s time.”

“There’s plenty of time,” said the regent. “At least there will be. Once you finish your trials.”

Dean tried not to show his disappointment as he returned to the table. “Of course. Forgive me. I’m getting ahead of myself.”

“Not to worry. This will all be over soon enough.”

Dean nodded.
That’s what I’m afraid of.

Lord Kray looked at Dean. “You seem overwhelmed. I understand. I’m sorry to put you through this, unprepared as you are. It isn’t fair, I know, but it’s a great responsibility that awaits you, and we must do all that we can to make you ready. Looking back, even I was not ready to watch over this kingdom thirteen
years ago. Fate forced my hand back then, just as it forces yours today. Just know that I hope you succeed. You seem a good lad, and I hope with all my heart that it’s you who takes the throne and my daughter’s hand in marriage. Too long has this island been without its sovereign. The people cry out for their king. They deserve a king.” Lord Kray raised his glass toward Dean. “I’m starting to think they might finally get one. To you, Dean Seaborne. To the future and a new golden age.”

The regent’s speech took Dean by surprise. It had been delivered with such earnest fluidity, and did not sound like the words of a man bent on holding on to power at any cost. Dean raised his goblet and returned the toast. “To the future.”

As Dean, Waverly, and her father drank, dinner was served. The entrée was a cut of fish so big that, if had they been on a ship, four sailors would have shared it. It smelled better than any food Dean had ever been served, but his burgeoning faith in his host was tested when he realized exactly what was on his plate.

“Lord Kray, is this puffer fish?”

The regent nodded. “Very good! I didn’t think you’d recognize it. ‘Tis a Zenhalan delicacy. Upon my word, when prepared correctly, the puffer fish is the most delicious thing you’ll ever eat.”

“And when prepared incorrectly, the last. Puffer fish are poisonous, are they not?”

The regent wagged a finger. “Not in the royal chef’s hands. It
has to be cut just right, but don’t worry. Puffer fish are his specialty. He knows precisely what to do.”

Dean wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I’m sure he does.”

He looked down at his plate and saw the trap the regent had laid for him. He was a crafty one, Lord Kray was. The way he had flattered Dean, getting him to drop his guard just before serving him the deadliest fish in all the sea.
How did a double-dealer like this ever raise a girl like Waverly?
He resolved not to be taken in by the regent this way again.

“Before we begin, I’d like to offer another toast,” Dean said. He stood up, discreetly sliding his plate out over the table’s edge as he rose. “Your words have inspired me, Lord Kray. I shall play the hand fate has dealt me to the end. The people of this island have waited long enough. They deserve a good and decent king, and I will give them that. Here and now, I pledge to pass any test you put before me and win the golden throne.” He turned to Waverly. “And when I am king, my lady, I promise to never again leave this island.” He raised his glass. “To life finally beginning.”

“Bravo!” said the regent, as if nothing in the world would make him happier. He stood and clinked goblets with Dean. Waverly remained seated and did not drink. Dean had meant to get under her father’s skin with his toast, but it seemed that she was the only one he’d managed to upset.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” asked the regent. “Are you all right?”

Waverly put a hand on her stomach and shook her head.
“Father, I’m suddenly not feeling very hungry. I wonder if you might excuse me?”

“I hope you’re not leaving us,” Dean said.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her tone sharp and final. “I need to go lie down.” Her father reached a hand out to her, but Waverly pulled back, making more apologies as she hurried away from the table.

Dean watched her go with a sheepish look on his face, wondering if it was something he had said. He absentmindedly set his drink down on the edge of his plate, and the weight of the goblet flipped his puffer fish onto the floor. He made no excuses for his clumsiness this time around.

“Hmm,” said Lord Kray as his servants swooped in to clean up the mess. “I’m surprised to find the boy who tamed the snapdragon so awkward.”

Dean sighed as Waverly sped across the footbridge. “I suppose I’m just a fish out of water.” Dean then eyed the watchtower in the distance.

He’d be heading back to sea soon enough.

CHAPTER
20

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